Old Deptford

Grinling Gibbons

The most famous English woodcarver of all time was born, oddly enough, not in England at all but in Rotterdam, in what is now Holland, in 1648. Grinling Gibbons did not set foot in the British Isles until sometime around 1670 or 1671.In those days a craftsman needed to be recognized and promoted by patrons to make his work widely known.

Gibbons was fortunate in that he was blessed with extraordinary talent in woodworking, and that his talent was recognized and promoted by a succession of patrons until he eventually came to the notice of Charles II.

Charles gave Gibbons commissions, as did William III and George I. Gibbons was also a favourite of the premier architect of the age, Christopher Wren. Wren called upon Gibbon to supply decorative carving for many of his country house commissions. The genius of Gibbons is not simply that he had a remarkable ability to mold and shape wood, but that he evolved a distinct style that was all his own. Working mostly in limewood, Gibbons' trademark was the cascade of fruit, leaves, flowers, foliage, fish, and birds. Such cascades could be applied to paneling, furniture, walls, or even chimneys. Perhaps to prove that he was not limited in his ability to the cascades, Gibbons produced a cravat made of limewood in a perfect imitation of Venetian needlepoint. The "cravat" was so lifelike that a foreign visitor was fooled into thinking it the standard dress of the English country gentleman! Horace Walpole, who is known to have later worn the cravat on at least one occasion, remarked in 1763, "There is no instance of man before Gibbons who gave to wood the loose and airy lightness of flowers". The cravat is now on display in the Chapel at Chatsworth, Derbyshire. Much of Gibbons work survives in isolated country houses, but Hampton Court Palace near London is blessed with an abundance of fine carvings by the Dutch-born master.

William III commissioned Gibbons to redecorate his State Apartments, and was so impressed by the result that in 1693 he gave Gibbons permission to use the title "Master Carver". Such carvings as the ones at Hampton Court are filled with symbolism which would have been apparent to an educated observer of the day, but which would escape most modern observers. Very often each object in the carving would have a particular meaning or reference to a classical Greek or Roman ideal or story. Some of Gibbons best work outside Hampton Court survives at Petworth House in Sussex, in particular a ceiling he designed for the Duke of Devonshire, and at Lyme Park and Dunham Massey in Cheshire, Belton House in Lincolnshire and Sudbury Hall in Derbyshire. Other fine examples of his work can be seen at Windsor, St Paul's, London. Also in London,, the font at All Hallows by the Tower church has a wooden cover carved by Gibbons in 1682. Grinling Gibbons work had an enormous influence of interior design and decor during the Golden Age of the English country house. Later craftsmen such as Thomas Chippendale are known to have been heavily influenced by his work. Grinling Gibbons died in 1720.

Information from Britain Express

St Nicholas Church, Deptford and a Ghost Story.

I recently visited the church of St Nicholas in Deptford. The first time I visited was somewhat unnerving as it was late, dark and a feeling of foreboding. This time, in daylight I was warmly greeted by the assistant curate who was very helpful to my request to take photos and learn a little more unknown history of this ancient monument. I was surprised to learn the church was completely destroyed by an incendiary bomb during World War 2 and remained derelict for some years becoming a dump and play area for children until it’s rebuilding in the late 1950’s. Many of its grave stones , plots, plaques and artefacts were destroyed or taken during those years with only fragments of architecture being recovered from the ruin. It also became a target of the V1 rockets one of which landed very close in the Royal Dock area. I believe this may be the one mentioned in  The Shipwrights Palace.blog.

Whilst taking pictures and talking to various people I approached a lady, who wishes to remain anonymous, and asked her about church’s history. It was then she told me a story which was quite unexpected. She told me of a witch who was homeless and was granted permission by the church to stay in a room in the tower, the oldest part of the church still standing. She then started to relate a very unnerving ghost story which she experienced and had never disclosed to anybody other than her partner and now me. Whilst carrying out her duties it was her responsibility to secure the church when her work was finished. This invariably took place when she was alone to lock up the church. She recounts that one evening she distinctly heard rapping’s coming from the tower area. This happened several times dispelling thoughts that it could be floorboards, doors creeking or some other rational explanation.. She experienced an  intense feeling of being watched. So intense was the feeling she stopped working and fled the building. It affected her so badly over the coming weeks that she did not want to return. When she did return she made sure it was always during daylight hours and since that date she always paces her work so she can leave when everyone else departs.the building. I could see that the experience unnerved her and still to this day stays with her .
Can anyone shed light on the witch in the tower story??  

 

Grinling Gibbons the master carver and his renowned  work "The Valley of Dry Bones" God breaths air into the bones of the departed to give them everlasting life.

 

Stone carving fragment fron the church interior.                                                                                                 

Balcony leading to the room in the tower.

Carving representing St Peter.

St Luke

Bell Tower.

A facinating place to visit.                                     

A Front Room in Albury Street.

This photo dates from about 1911 and could be the interior of 29 Albury Street. This gentleman who ever he was looks in deep contemplation. How will I pay my rent this week?...... still ....got plenty of coal.


Source: My thanks to the Lewisham Local Studies and Archives

More Goings On at 34 Albury Street

In September 1950 a Mrs Emily Wilcox rented No. 34 for 23s 9p per week and looked after 6 children in this 7 roomed house. She also encountered terrifying events for a number of years whilst at the property. My mother and Aunt Jeanie knew her well and were told on a number of occasions by her that the place was haunted. Mrs Wilcox use to hear quite distinctly footsteps going up and down the stairs when the place was empty, and once saw a shimmering white light on the first floor landing. Sash windows were constantly being flung open by themselves and more disturbing an apparition of a lady would appear quite unexpectedly. I quote, "she always wore a cloak and a wide brimmed hat" This apparition also appeared in other properties close by. The further you investigate and go back in time researching archives you discover many references to the fact that Lord Nelson stayed briefly at this property and would meet Lady Hamilton there. I believe this story was not invented to elevate the selling price of the property but I know was handed down word to mouth over the years to successive occupants. Could it be that the lady in the cloak and wide brimmed hat may of been this lady in the photograph....Emma Hart...later to become...Lady Hamilton?

Newspaper cutting "Ghost in a Cloak" September 1950

Entrance hall of 29 Albury Street c.1911.

I can only remember this hallway with the woodwork painted in a light green/blue with the panel being wallpapered. To see it in the wood so to speak is amazing. The interiors were made of oak panelling with the bannister and rails expertly hand crafted. I can remember back in the late 1950's an american gentlemen visiting my grandmother and asking if he could purchase the whole staircase!! The door on the right was the entrance to the Front Room and was only used Saturday nights and all day Sunday's. Most of the living was done down the stairs and into the scullery/kitchen. The door on the left was the entrance to my grandmothers bedroom which also led to another bedroom annex to it. Gas mantles were still being used in the 50's. You can still see the mantle on the left upper of the front room door and the gas pipe connecting it.

Source: My thanks to the Lewisham Local Studies and Archives

A haunting at 34 Albury Street ...........Aunt Jeanies House.

Then (1935) and now (2010), end house, middle right

It wasn't until we left London in 1960 that my Mother told me of some unnerving events that took place during her courting days with my Father to be. My Mum would stay at our aunt Jeanies house, No. 34 Albury Street, on the condition, She slept with Jeanie in the attic bedroom. My Mum being from a very large family in Kent at the time thought nothing of it. That is until some strange events took place that truly terrified her! On her first night as she lay there half awake she heard a gentle but very solid "click" as she looked in the direction of the attic door that connected the two terraced houses, she saw it slowly start to open!  Terrified she nudged Jeanie who said " I know I see it as well...... it happens frequently" This would happen on a number of occasions to the point that my Mum avoided staying there when ever she could. The unwritten history of the house is that Lord Nelson stayed there on a number of occasions whilst waiting for a ship and also, I presume, for his assignations with Lady Emma Hamilton who it is said, stayed next door.  Whether this is who still haunts the place I cant say. I can also vaguely remember something else quite strange about the house and that was a grave stone embedded in the wall in the garden. Even back in the fifties the stone was illegible then. My brother carrying out more research on the house has found it was not just my Mum and Jeanie who have been terrified by the goings but also from subsequent people who have occupied the premises since.

Ghostly Goings On in Albury Street. Report in the Deptford Mercury dated March 1977

Incidentally the secret connecting doorways in the house, were  originally found by my father and uncle who, back in the late 1940's, were decorating the bedroom. My uncle said "Jim, can you hear voices". They removed layers of old wallpaper and found a door in the party wall. They opened it and found another door and a walkway which led to the house next door only a few feet in. On pushing it quite hard I might add, they found themselves in next doors bedroom/living room where two ladies, were drinking tea, looked at the pair of them .....totally aghast!!! 

Watch this space more stories to come.

Signed Indenture by William John Evelyn

Whilst researching Deptford I purchased an old indeture relating to the lease of numbers 26 & 27 Edwards Street, Deptford. It was only on closer examination that the owner of the properties was none other than William John Evelyn of Wotton, Surrey, a direct decendant of the famous diarist John Evelyn! The Lessee was Henry Wilson, Publican of the Prince of Wales Public House, 31 Blackfriars Road, Southwark. The lease was set to run for a term of 80 years from the 9th July 1864. Wonderful.

William John Evelyn

William John Evelyn from a portrait by Havell (1884)

William John Evelyn (27 July 1822 - 1908), a descendant of the diarist John Evelyn eldest son of George Evelyn and Mary Jane Massy Dawson. He had inherited the large Wotton estate in Surrey, and was often referred to locally as "the Squire" Went to Cheam School from 1835 until 1837 when he went to Rugby, and from there to Balliol College, Oxford where he obtained his Masters degree in 1844. He was elected as a Conservative Member of Parliament for Western Surrey at a by-election in 1849, and re-elected in 1852. He stood down at the next (1857) general election. He later returned to the House of Commons as Member for Deptford in 1885, resigning in 1888 by becoming Steward of the Manor of Northstead after falling out with his party as a result of events in Mitchelstown, Ireland where police shot on protestors and killed three people. Subsequently Lord Salisbury's government accepted the police version of events and refused to condemn their actions; Evelyn was horrified by this and resigned from parliament.^[1] The by-election which followed would be contested by his good friend Wilfred Scawen Blunt from an Irish prison. Evelyn thoroughly disapproved of the Boer War, he considered it had been made in the interest of capitalists and that it was unjust and cruel. At the time this could have been thought unpatriotic of him. In 1869, on the closing of the Deptford Dockyard, he purchased back from the Government as much of the site of Sayes Court as was available and by 1876 was turning some of this into a recreation ground for his Deptford tenants In 1886 he dedicated an acre and a half of the Sayes Court recreation ground that he had created, in perpetuity to the public and a permanent provision was made for the Evelyn estate to cover the expense of maintenance and caretaking. In 1884 he sold land then being used as market gardens in Deptford, to the London County Council for less than it's market value, as well as paying £2000 towards the cost of its purchase. This was officially opened to the public as Deptford Park on 7th June 1897.

John Evelyn (31 October 1620 – 27 February 1706) was an English writer, gardener and diarist. Evelyn's diaries or memoirs are largely contemporaneous with those of the other noted diarist of the time, Samuel Pepys, and cast considerable light on the art, culture and politics of the time (he witnessed the deaths of Charles I and Oliver Cromwell, the last Great Plague of London, and the Great Fire of London in 1666). Over the years, Evelyn’s Diary has been over-shadowed by Pepys's chronicles of 17th-century life.Evelyn and Pepys corresponded frequently and much of this correspondence has been preserved.

Details from Wikipedia

Peter Hahn,.... WW1 Spy caught at 201 Deptford High Streeet.

Quite early in the year it was discovered that some foreigner who could write fluent English was sending regular communications to one of these ad- dresses in a simple secret ink, and it was evident that he was the sort of person who would find out something which might at any time be of great use to the enemy. The letters were posted at various places in London, and there was no clue at all to the sender's address. Like all spies, he was continually demanding money, and it was hoped for some time that a remittance from Holland would disclose his identity, but in the end the denouement came about in quite another way. A letter was intercepted in the Censorship which disclosed secret writing. It was not in the usual hand, and the incriminatory words said that * C ' had gone to Newcastle, and that the writer was sending the communication ' from 20 1 ' instead. I remember very well the morning when this sentence was shown to me. The postmark was Deptford. ‘201 ' might or might not be the number of a house. We rang up Deptford Police Station and asked for a list of the streets in their area which ran to 201 houses. There was only one Deptford High Street and the occupant of that house had a German name, ' Peter Hahn, Baker and Confectioner No one was more surprised than the stout little baker when a taxi deposited a number of police officers at his door. He proved to be a British subject, and to have been resident in Deptford for some years. While he was being put into the cab a search was made of his premises, and in a back room the police found a complete outfit for secret writing neatly stowed away in a cardboard box. When seated in my armchair Hahn was not at all communicative. He professed to know nothing of * C,' and when further pressed he refused to answer any questions, but patient inquiry among his neighbours produced a witness who remembered that a tall Russian gentleman had been visiting Hahn at frequent intervals. His name was believed to be Muller, and his address a boarding-house in Bloomsbury. This limited the field of search. The register of every boarding-house was scrutinised, and within a few hours the police found the name of Muller; the landlady of the boarding-house confirmed the suggestion that he was a Russian, and said that he had lately gone to New-castle to see some friends. The search was then transferred to Newcastle, and within a few hours Muller was found, arrested, and brought to London. He was a tall, spare, worried-looking person, anxious only to have an opportunity of clearing himself. He had never seen Hahn; had never been in Germany, and could not even speak the language. For some time he adhered to the story that he was a Russian. An inquiry into his past showed that he was one of those cosmopolitan, roving Germans who are hotel-keepers in one place, commercial travellers in another. At some time they have all been motor-car agents and touts. He spoke English with scarcely any trace of a foreign accent. With his glib tongue he had gone through the usual spy routine of making love to impressionable young women, and winning acquaintance by the promise of partnership in profitable speculations. He had some claim for registering himself as a Russian, for he had been born in Libau and spoke Russian as well as Flemish, Dutch, French, German, and English. Hahn, on the other hand, was merely a tool. He had been born in Battersea, and was therefore a British subject. In 1913 he was a bankrupt with assets of 3 to meet liabilities of 1800. His object, no doubt, was purely mercenary. As a British subject he had the right to be tried by civil court, and therefore, as it was not desirable to have two trials, both he and Muller were indicted at the Old Bailey in May 1915. Both were found guilty of espionage. Muller was sentenced to death and Hahn to seven years' penal servitude on the ground that he had been acting under Miiller's influence. Muller appealed unsuccessfully against his sentence. On 22nd June 1915 in Upper Thames Street it was the luncheon hour, and a crowd formed immediately. A foreigner seated between two military policemen and going up the street towards the Tower was not lost on the crowd, which raised a cry of ' German spy! The cab broke down and ‘another taxi was quickly found, and the journey was resumed without further accident. The condemned man was highly strung, and he broke down on the night before his execution. On the following morning he pulled himself together, and insisted on passing gravely down the firing-party and shaking hands with each man. He was executed on June 23, 1915. The Germans did not hear of his death for some time, for letters containing remittances continued to be received.

Extract from the book "Queer People" by BASIL THOMSON